Christmas Justice (Carder Texas Connections #7)(32)

She hitched her hip on the arm of the chair and fingered Molly’s locks. The little girl’s eyes blinked. She opened her baby blues, looking up at Garrett, then at Laurel.

“Mommy?” she asked. “Daddy?”

“They aren’t here, sugar,” Garrett said. “But your aunt Laurel is. She won’t let anything happen to you. Neither will I.”

Molly bit down on her lip. “There was a ’splosion. Daddy’s car burned like in the fireplace.”

A tear trickled down Laurel’s face. “Yes, honey, it did.”

“Are Mommy and Daddy coming back?” she asked, her voice small, fearful.

Laurel glanced at Garrett. He warred with what to do, what to say. He simply nodded. It was time.

He tightened his hold on Molly. Laurel cleared her throat. “Honey, they aren’t coming back, but they’re watching over you. They’re in heaven.”

Tears welled in Molly’s eyes. “Even Matthew and Michaela?”

“Even them, sweetie.” Laurel handed her Mr. Houdini. Molly hugged the lion close.

Tears rolled down her face. “I want them back.”

Laurel sank closer to Garrett. He shifted and she nestled next to him. Her arm wrapped around Molly, her cheek resting on the little girl’s head. “So do I, Molly Magoo. So do I.”

Molly clutched her stuffed animal. She didn’t scream, as if the pain was too much for that. She laid her head on Garrett’s chest. Fat tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Sing to me,” she pleaded. “My heart hurts.”

“The ants go marching...” Garrett fought against the emotions closing his throat. Memories too horrible and too deep slammed into him. Nights lying in the hospital bed after he’d awakened, reaching out his hand for Lisa’s or for Ella’s and no one had been there.

Just anonymous nurse after nurse—or no one at all.

Laurel leaned against him, her shoulders silently shaking. He knew she was crying. She buried her face in his neck.

Garrett held on to them, the children’s tune now a mere murmur. Soon Molly went still in his arms.

He fell silent.

Sunlight streamed into the window, but he could tell from the angle it was low in the sky. Late afternoon.

He looked over at Laurel. Her eyes were red. “It breaks my heart,” she whispered.

His own emotions raw and on the surface, he gave a quiet nod. “I should put her in bed. She’ll wake up at some point, but she needs the rest.”

Laurel shifted away from him and he rose, taking the precious bundle into his bedroom. He pulled off her shoes and tucked her under the covers. He kissed her forehead. “Sweet dreams, sugar.”

His arms felt empty. His throat tightened as the past overtook him. His own little girl, afraid. His Ella hadn’t known a nightmare would come. Neither had Molly.

He turned and Laurel stood in the doorway watching him, her face ravaged with grief. His own festered just beneath the surface. Part of him wanted to escape the claustrophobia of his bedroom, to run to the top of a mountain and shout his fury. Instead, he walked toward her and she backed up. He stepped into the living room and closed the door softly behind him. The latch clicked.

She said nothing, and he didn’t know what to say. Molly’s tears had torn away the defensive emotional wall he’d worked so diligently to build over the past eighteen months.

She simply walked into his arms, and he could do nothing but enfold her, cling to her and struggle to contain the dam of feelings that threatened to break free.

Laurel stood there silently for several minutes. Her warmth seeped through his shirt. How long since he’d just let himself be this close to someone?

Much too long.

“Thank you,” she said. She eased back and touched his cheek with her hand, her whispering caress soft and tender.

“You handled her well. She’ll cry more. It won’t be over today, but she’ll make it. So will you.”

He kissed her forehead and she wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him tight. He knew she just needed someone to cling to, but he couldn’t ignore the slight pickup of his heartbeat. She was too vulnerable. And so was he. Laurel and Molly’s presence reminded him of a pain he’d barely endured. Now somehow he had to find the strength to help them survive.

A small whimpering filtered from his bedroom.

“Go to her.” Garrett stepped away. “She needs family.”

Laurel gripped his hand and kissed his cheek. “You’re a good man, Garrett Galloway.” She disappeared behind the door and he heard her softly speaking to Molly.

Once he was certain the little girl was calm, he grabbed his Beretta from atop the refrigerator, where he’d stashed it, and strode onto the porch. The sun had turned red as it set on the western side of the ranch. The face of the mountain had turned light red and purple. Garrett sucked in a deep breath of mountain air. He exhaled, shuddering, and gripped the wooden rail until his knuckles whitened.

He blinked quickly, shoving back the overwhelming emotions that threatened to escape.

Molly and Laurel could rip what was left of his heart to shreds. When he’d come to and realized Lisa and Ella had paid the ultimate price for his job, only the need for revenge had kept him alive those first few months during therapy. He’d buried the grief deep in a hole where his heart had once resided.